


Saturday, 3PM

by lea_ysaye



Category: Norman Reedus - Fandom, The Boondock Saints RPF, The Walking Dead RPF
Genre: F/M, One Shot, just sweetness, lazy weekends, naps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 12:40:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7508683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lea_ysaye/pseuds/lea_ysaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lazy weekend afternoons are the best.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saturday, 3PM

Why the fuck isn’t it working?

“C’mon, ya piece of shit, just dial that fucking number already!”

He stifles a yawn with the back of his hand. It’s so quiet. Just Eye purring, grooming himself in his lap.

Peaceful. Ya, this place is peaceful.

His eyes almost drift shut, but he shakes himself. This first. Fucking cell phone. How difficult can it be?

“You’re the same fucking phone as the other one, stop messing me around…”

 _No network,_ flashes the little screen.

“Oh fuck you! I just wanna prank call Andy, freak him out on his first weekend back… asshole… And what’re _you_ looking at, eh?”

The cat just sits and stares at him. Eye would shake his head at him if the animal knew human body language, but instead just goes back to licking his fur.

“Fantastic! You’re no help, y’know. Go on, that’s right, keep licking your butt…”

He’s drifting now, eyes are definitely closing.

“Oh never mind then…”

 

She hears him mumble to himself, and a few swear words, and smiles. _Darling,_ she thinks, and goes back to the salad she’s making for dinner.

There’s another huff, then a clank like something dropping on the wooden coffee table. She puts the knife down and listens for a moment.

Nothing.

“Huh.” Better check then.

On quiet, bare feet she tiptoes out of the kitchen area into the sunlit, shadow-dappled living space.

The submersible TV is still on mute, some daytime cable crap she’s never bothered to learn the name of. All she can see of him is an abundance of messy, freshly-dyed Daryl hair on the sofa cushion, and Eye, curled up on his belly, rising and sinking with his slow, steady breaths.

She sneaks closer, mindful not to disturb him. This is too precious.

He has really fallen asleep. Brand new phone face down on the table, cables, instruction manual and other assorted techie bits strewn all over him. His face, upside down for her, is at peace.

He looks so tired.

 _Oh dear sweetheart,_ she whispers tonelessly, and the love she feels for him is so overwhelming it actually hurts. _You needed this, huh? All that stress, and work, and rumors. And that silly boy…_

Just a weekend, yeah, like everyone else has them. Dicking round with his new toy, falling asleep on the sofa, just like that.

She tiptoes back to work, smiling. They got nowhere to be. He can stay right there all afternoon. Nothing needs doing, nobody wants them today.

Just rest. Like this. Right here.


End file.
